Coming around
by her illusion
Summary: Draco is sick, Hermione realises something, and Harry's words give her hope that her relationship with Draco will eventually be accepted by everyone. Can be read on its own or taken as a sequel to Misunderstanding.


"Harry, Ron. Leave. Now."

I pause, and then add as an afterthought in a slightly softer tone, "Please?"

Thankfully, they seem to recognise from my tone that I mean business and back off, with Harry dragging a reluctant Ron towards the fireplace. They are my best friends and I know they only do this because they care about me, but sometimes I wish they can just trust my judgement, open their eyes properly and see past their prejudices. Since I have done it, why can't they? Granted, it may be a bit more complicated on Ron's part, given the long-lasting blood feud between their families, but surely if they give it time and patience they can sort it out. It is blatantly unfair to be accused of not being in my right mind, simply because 'no one else would want to date that bloody ferret otherwise', as Ron claims.

I notice that Harry isn't quite as vocal about it all though. Whether he isn't altogether against it and is supporting Ron as a matter of principle or that he wants to avoid listening to him whining about it otherwise (they were Auror partners after all) or even that he just doesn't agree with that particular part (in which Ron mysteriously seems to take a vicious delight in voicing repeatedly)…I don't know why Ron can't see it, but maybe Harry can, since he has recently come out as being bisexual after a drunken fling at Ron's birthday bash with Seamus – Draco may not be handsome in the conventional way, given his still too pointy features, but he has an animalistic grace to his movements, words and clothing which convey a different type of beauty. Or perhaps he simply has nothing to add on to the long list of flaws Ron has given? I don't know either. Draco's voice greets me as soon as I re-enter the room.

"Hermione."

"Mmm?" I glance at him, only to note with some amusement that his eyes are still closed. Apparently, he is sleep-talking again. But my heart clenches at his next words.

"Don't leave me. Potter, Weasley, please…"

I didn't realise he was that insecure about it…but then again, Draco is still an expert in the area of hiding his feelings. Besides, knowing him, he probably thinks it'll be weak to admit that since he's a guy and all – he just can't seem to see it the way I do. I find it sort of sweet, really, because the fact that he needs that kind of reassurance hints at the depth of feeling he has for me and makes me feel not so alone. He doesn't seem human; sometimes, it's as if he's flawless and I feel really inferior in comparison. It helps to know that I'm not the only one who feels that way – that he needs me as much as I need him. I link my fingers with his and drop a light kiss on his forehead, wondering if it would wake him. I think about waking him to save him from his distress, but he will be mortified if he knew I heard him. Besides, he only got to sleep a while ago, and he needs rest to let his body recuperate.

He's an amazingly light sleeper who can seemingly sense danger – once, he saved our house from burning down, simply because he had a feeling that there was something wrong and when he checked, the carpet was burning up! That was at three in the morning, by the way. Occasionally, I even wake him up accidentally when I go to work because my heels keep catching the edge of the carpet and I trip. It's adorable because while I'm sprawled on the carpet, cursing and swearing, he'll come running and then I'll start laughing at his exasperated expression.

I whip around at the sound of footsteps – only to encounter a sheepishly grinning Harry peeping around the bedroom door which I remember was closed. I narrow my eyes at him, and as he walks forwards and awkwardly pats Draco's hand, I quirk an eyebrow – one of the mannerisms which I have picked up from Draco, like he has picked up mine of biting my lip when anxious – up in query. Harry clears his throat and shrugs, and I have to fight my grin at the thought that everyone appears to have a particular mannerism to call their own.

"I've thought it over…I'm going to try and accept him. And I'm sure everyone else will come around to it – well, to him – in time too."

And I allow myself to break out into a wide grin which stretches across my face, unable to fully express all the joy that I feel at that simple statement. There's no question of who he's talking about, and I'm grateful for the renewing of the tiny spark of hope which has been fizzling out. Draco sent out apology letters after the war, but I am the only one out of the Trio who received one. Ron I can understand, but Harry…this is purely my assumption, but I think that the history between them is too much to be overcome by a simple letter. It started much earlier for them after all, even before Hogwarts, during their first meeting at Madam Malkin's.

I speak softly, so as not to wake Draco. "You should come back another day, when he's feeling better. He won't be at his best now. He'll hate that you saw him like this, in such a vulnerable state."

Draco may not be pleased about it if he knows I am telling Harry this, but it won't hurt for him to have some extra help since he'll learn that eventually, anyway. Harry nods, smiles, then retreats out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. I gently roll Draco over and begin rubbing his back, hoping to help him ease some of the aches. Piercing grey eyes open, and he blinks drowsily at me. I smile back at him. This man is my world and I will never give him up. No matter how difficult the journey may be, I have confidence that we can reach the end, as long as we have each other.


End file.
